The private jet touched down smoothly on the runway, its engine still humming as the cabin lights flickered to life. Clyde leaned forward in his seat, fingers drumming restlessly in the armrest. He hadn't even waited for the seatbelt sign to turn off before pulling out his phone, switching it on the second the wheels kissed the ground. The device buzzed violently in his hand, notifications flooding in.
Before he could even dial Emile, a name on the screen of his phone froze him. A string of missed-call texts, WeChat messages, and calls from one person.
His pupils dilated. Micah.
Why did he call so many times? What had happened? A sharp chill ran down his spine.
Without wasting another second, Clyde stormed off the plane and pressed redial. Reaching the car, he slid to the back seat, his voice low and clipped as he ordered his driver.
"Head straight to the Gu residence. Don't stop for anything."
